Scatter love everywhere, she says and blows him a kiss.
He tries to catch it, but he always has been rubbish at catching things. It slips through his fingers and lands on a passing dog. The dog grins, his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.
He's cute, she says. Cuter than you. Perhaps I should marry him.
He probably has better prospects, Gil says, his smile slipping from his face.
He thinks of how his mother will take the news of his engagement.
A bit sudden, son, she will say. Perhaps you should think things through. Your problem is you always rush into things.
He shakes his head. What would his mother know about love?
She has been locked into a loveless marriage for as long as he can remember. His stepfather is hardly ever there, not physically anymore.
And when he is there physically his mind is elsewhere. With one of his mistresses or maybe at the bookies.
What are you thinking about, Mary says, linking her arm in his.
I'm just looking forward to introducing you to my mother, he lies.
She smiles up at him, and his heart swells.
...
